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When Reason Disappears

Sometimes it is difficult, if not impossible, to keep things in perspective. For instance, when your kid has been in a fender bender, no one hurt, but chaos rages through your body.

Or when someone comes to work on a leaky faucet and inadvertently cuts your water line and your neighbor’s house seems to be slipping away from its foundation as the water floods under their pier and beam house while your water meter is eating away at your child’s college fund.

It’s instances like those when objectivity seems to take up hiding somewhere in your subconscious and refuses to come out to help maintain peace and tranquility.

Most of those traumas right themselves in a few minutes or a few years, and your life moves on to other mishaps that cause you to lose sleep, hair, and often your sanity.

You hear do-gooder experts urge you, when mishaps overwhelm you, to take deep breaths through your nose and exhale through your mouth by unclamping your teeth and opening your lips. 

It is easier to scream bloody merry (or is its bloody Mary?) when your mouth is open, and you are gulping air in order to expel all that pent-up fear, tension, frustration, anger, and murderous energy.

It takes a lot of air to push horrifying screams past tight vocal cords as you release all that suppressed tension. 

I had someone suggest once I could always take a baseball bat and beat a pillow to death. That worked so well I didn’t stop with just one pillow but added the mattress and the living room sofa. The last of the tension left my body when I could no longer raise my arms for more battering. All that beating was accompanied by my loud bellowing and hollering, causing my neighbors to knock on the door to make certain I was okay.

I wasn’t okay, and they have since put up a protective fence around and sound proof siding on their home. Being shielded from my tantrums keeps them from beating their furniture to a pulp too.

As I said, it is difficult to maintain one’s calm, rational, sane perspective when life throws up on you.

It doesn’t happen often these days, maybe because I am older and have less physical strength to knock things around, less lung capacity to scream outrageously, and less memory to remember why I’m upset.

Aging does have benefits, and my neighbors are grateful for all my advancing years. 

I wonder if I’ve become boring. I seem to be having fewer visitors and when they come they are clothed in flak jackets and accompanied by the police.

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